Attendez Toujours et Guérir
by WhotaliaKyojin
Summary: He was found and raised, then ignored because he was easily forgotten, until one day, a man came along who noticed him for the first time. He soon fell in love with this man at a young age, now what? After everything, what will happen next? (PruCan, rated M for language, alcohol, drug use, violence, and sexual behavior. This story is not over the top angst, just a heads up.)
1. Prologue

On a snowy day in France, not even a few months after Francis and Arthur had gotten into an argument about raising and claiming the newborn child known to represent the country America, the man lay on his couch while watching the snow outside. He saw a dark figure rush by his window so he quickly sat up. "Qui est-ce?" He asked himself. He doesn't recall anybody requesting to visit him.

He remembers that his two friends, Antonio and Gilbert, were too busy. Gilbert was caring for his little brother Ludwig, who is going through some mental issues, so that required attention. Antonio is caring for Lovino, a young little Italian who has one hell of an attitude. Francis had nobody to raise and it made him a bit sad.

He heard a quick knock on the door so he stood up and went to answer it. Once he opened the door, a cool wind hit his face that had a smell he barely recognized. It smelt of that one strange sticky brown liquid Arthur had him try once. Arthur said it came from a Maple Tree. Francis looked around but didn't notice anything, then soft whisper came from near his feet. He looked down to see an infant swaddled in a cloth of red and white. "Oh!" He said in surprise.

He quickly reached down to pick up the child. The child had blond hair and one curly strand that hung out from all of the rest. The child had pale skin and a soft smile on it's face. When it opened its eyes, Francis gasped at the amethyste glow from its irises in its eyes. The child gave another soft whimper. "Ohonhonhon, belle." He said as a smile spread across his face.

He closed the door and went inside of the house. He sat down on the couch and laid the child on the couch then unwrapped it from the cloth. Once he did so, he sat the child in his lap and held up the cloth to see a maple leaf in the center of it with two red stripes on each side, leaving the middle section white. A note fluttered from the flag and landed next to the french man on the couch. Francis picked up the note and read the calligraphy on it:

_Dear Francis Bonnefoy,_

_I trust you with this child, the brother of America and the one to represent Canada, a newly formed country. Please take care of him and guard him with your life. _

_Your's truly, _

_-W _

Francis looked at the note, then down at the child in his lap. The child had no name, so Francis thought of one, "Mathieu...Mathieu…" He thought to himself as he tried to come up with a last name for the child. "What will…" He said once again, then the idea came to mind. "Will...Willi...Williams! Mathieu Williams! A name so unique yet common." He said with a smile on his face, "You are too young to be my brother so you can be mon fils."

With that, the start of something new will begin, something that will change the world and lives.


	2. Chapter I

After 16 years of raising Matthew, which is what everyone else calls him, Francis's friends can finally visit after raising their brothers into adulthood, so that means they're independent and they can live in their own countries. Francis looked around and got worried, Matthew was nowhere to be seen. "Mathieu! Where are you?! Stop hiding or next time you will be in trouble. This is the twelfth time you have hidden from me!" Francis shouted.

"Papa, I d-don't hide from you. I stay by y-your side unless I have to feed K-Kumajirou." A hushed voice says. Francis glances to his side and sees the young and timid boy standing there. He lets out a sigh and smiles, "Sorry Mathieu, I don't seem to notice you most times." He says. Matthew lets out a sigh, "_No one notices me." _ the boy thinks to himself. A knock on the door causes the two blondes to look at the door and they hear some snickering outside.

Francis rushes to the door and opens it to his two friends. They laugh and hug each other as Matthew calmly walks over to the stairs and sits down. All through elementary school, he had no friends because none of the kids noticed him, and if they did, they would insult him and move on. Seventh grade didn't go well, and eighth grade got worse. Ninth grade was plain out horrible and sophomore year was 3% better, only because his brother Alfred went to visit him and eat lunch with him on the first day of school. Now it was junior year and he wanted to leave school already, he wanted to take care of his country and take responsibility for it. Maybe this time he can get revenge on that one Cuban who called him Alfred and beat him up and left him behind in a parking lot. Maybe...All of the possibilities...Maybe Matthew can finally meet the love of his life.

"Oh, she has a nice face! How old is she?" a voice with an accent asked. It pulled Matthew out of his thoughts, causing him to take a look around the room. He soon found a pair of intense red eyes staring at him. His face got red and he looked down at the ground. "That is mon fils, Mathieu. He is too young for you so keep that in mind. If you lay a finger on him I will be honor bound to kick your ass." Francis replied to the voice. Matthew looked up to see who the voice belonged to, it had an accent he only heard at the Olympics or World Cup. He remembers a young yet muscular blond haired man waving a black, red, and yellow flag speaking with the same accent...Germany! That's what kind of accent it was, it was German.

As Matthew looked up, the owner of the red eyes looked away and the man's face reddened. Matthew took a moment to study this man, guessing he was the one who asked that question...Matthew brought back what the man said moments before and he blushed. He said he had a nice face… Now back to the features of this man. He had white hair and pale skin, don't forget the red eyes and German accent. Matthew sat there for a moment and thought to himself, "_This guy isn't German at all...He shares the same features of an albino gerbil...So that's it, he's albino with a German accent. So he lives near Germany." _

He sat there for a little longer as the voices in the background didn't matter, then it clicked. "P-Prussian! It's impossible s-since the country is no longer e-existent but I am f-fully aware that there is a-a Prussian standing right h-here in front of m-me! I am also a-aware of the country of P-Prussia!" Matthew lightly shouted, the sudden outburst caught the trio's attention. The Spaniard who was there and Francis were confused, but the albino was completely shocked. "H-How did you know the awesome me was Prussian?" The baffled albino asked. Matthew didn't hesitate to answer, or think about the next thing he was going to say, "B-Because I would never f-forget such an amazing p-part of the w-world! Especially the a-amazing country of P-Prussia!" He shouted lightly again.

The silence filled the room, it made Matthew nervous so he ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. The trio was left there, all but one took the words of the Canadian seriously. It was the Prussian. "Gilbert, Antonio, that was mon fils Mathieu." France said with questionable tone. Antonio, who was the Spaniard, broke into laughter with Francis. Gilbert sat there in wonder, staring up the stairway. His face was blank as he thought about Matthew's words. Somebody didn't forget about Prussia for the first time. Gilbert wasn't accused of being a punk German either because of his white hair and red eyes, plus his German accent.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, Matthew stared at whatever blush was left behind on his face, he heard Francis's remark then laughter. A tear started to form in his eye, assuming the Prussian was laughing along. His father did mention the names Gilbert and Antonio, so he assumed the Spaniard's name was Antonio. That means the Prussian's name was Gilbert. Gilbert, such an important name…


End file.
